A Love So Good
by Seshat3
Summary: A series of Nick/Greg one-shots written in collaboration by egeria -aka Seshat 3 and Stokes4Me. Warning: SLASH and PWP Third chapter published 18-04-10.
1. Good Morning

_A/N: The authors of this work do not in any way profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). __**CSI:Crime Scene Investigation**__ is the property of CBS_

_This piece of fiction is __collaboration between me (__**egeria**__) and __**Stokes4Me**__. We intend to write a series of one-shots under this theme and we very much hope you enjoy them all. Nick and Greg are an established couple in this series which__ fits into the universe of Follow the Evidence (ie post Season 5), but in no way is it a requirement to read that fic in order to enjoy these. _

_**Plot by:**__ Stokes4Me_

_**Story by:**__ egeria aka Seshat3_

**Good Morning**

Nick's hard on woke him up, which wouldn't normally be a problem if he hadn't been in an empty bed. Greg's pillow was still warm though, and simply thinking of that long lanky body that usually lay next to him got Nick's cock twitching. Lazily, still half asleep, he wrapped hot fingers around himself and started stroking, daydreaming of Greg as he did.

The scent of coffee filling the air stayed his hand; a cupboard door banging shut in the kitchen had him wide awake. He heard the loud gurgle of the coffee pot as it began its brewing and realized that Greg must still be home. And if Greg was home, there was a chance for some early morning sex. Wake up sex Nick liked to call it. Flinging the covers off Nick stood, wincing a little as his erection made standing difficult, and padded off, naked and barefoot into the kitchen.

Nick paused in the doorway, breath hitched in his throat as he caught sight of Greg. His young lover was rummaging in a drawer, back to the door. Sunlight streaming through the window fell across his hair and shoulders, giving him an ethereal look, as though he wore a halo. A halo that didn't quite fit the curse Greg let out when he accidentally slammed his fingers in the drawer. Nick laughed softly as he watched Greg shake his hand then suck his fingers. Greg cursed once more then grabbed his favourite mug, the Marilyn Manson one Nick had made him for his birthday.

With his back to the door Greg grew as still as he was ever going to get, which meant he was tapping his fingers against his mug while his leg twitched to some inner beat only he could hear. He was eyeing the coffee machine as the brew slowly dripped, splashing against the glass bottom of the pot magically turning boring water into what could only be called the nectar of the gods.

Even wearing only his Daffy Duck boxers with the sunlight gleaming on his skin he looked like a gift from the gods. Nick's cock twitched with sheer want. Unable to stand the distance any longer, Nick padded up to Greg, wrapping his arms around the younger man's waist.

Greg nearly purred at the touch, leaning back into Nick who stepped forward, pressing his body against Greg's grinding the full length of his erection against Greg's ass so that the younger man moaned, half laugh, half lust.

Nick ran his finger tips along Greg's ribs before running his palms across the smooth expanse of stomach, skimming under the waistband of his boxers to tickle at the sprinkle of hair under Greg's navel. Still grinding against his lover's body his fingers dipped lower to brush at Greg's hardening cock.

The younger man took in a deep breath at the contact. Closing his eyes he moved his hips against Nick's, matching the rhythm of his movements. He grunted once when Nick pulled away but then one large calloused hand was trailing along his hips towards his spine.

Nick loved the feel of Greg's skin under his fingers so he took his time, lazy fingers tracing swirling patterns over taut flesh. Holding Greg with one hand still playing on his belly, the other crept down his spine to knead his firm ass. He played for another moment then brushed the back of his fingers against Greg's cock. It was hard now, standing stiff with arousal. Nick wrapped his fingers around the shaft, gripping tightly as Greg bit off a grunt.

His own erection was almost painful, so he brought his free hand to his mouth, licking his fingers and moaning in anticipation. When his fingers were slick with saliva he took them from his lips, a single strand of spit glistening between his mouth and finger tips until he dropped his hand to creep inside the waistband of Greg's boxers. Fingers resting in between Greg's buttocks he pressed gently against the tight little opening, rubbing one finger over and around the puckered skin.

Greg hissed through his teeth, throwing his head back at the sensation, pressing back into Nick's hand in blatant invitation. He tightened his grip around the handle of his coffee cup while his body writhed against Nick's fingers.

Nick pressed in gently, one wet finger teasing into Greg's body with agonising slowness. He couldn't help but close his eyes as the tight heat enveloped him. Nick went harder still as he thought of what would happen next, that same heat would soon be surrounding his cock. Nick continued the slow press of his finger, curling and twisting until he was buried as far as he could go.

With one fist gripping Greg's cock and one finger plunged deep inside his body, Nick leaned forward, tongue darting out to lick a bead of sweat trickling down Greg's neck.

Greg let out a strangled cry, hips jerking forward then back. Wanting more, needing more. Again he pressed back into Nick's hand, grinding his hips as he grunted softly.

Nick eased back leaving only his fingertip poised inside before inserting a second wet finger and plunging deep. His fist gripped Greg's cock tighter, pumping up and down as he stretched his fingers, curling and twisting until Greg moaned low in his throat.

Unable to wait any longer Nick withdrew his fingers and let go of Greg's hard shaft, tugging his boxers down just enough to expose his buttocks. With both hands planted on Greg's hips, fingers digging into skin, he froze for a moment with his cock positioned just so, poised and ready to plunge into Greg's body.

Greg moaned and bowed his head. Sweat beaded on his forehead dripping onto fingers still wrapped around the coffee cup. The scent of brewing coffee filled his nostrils, mingling with the musky scent of their combined arousal. Again he writhed against Nick, whimpering with the desire to be impaled on Nick's cock.

As if he could read his mind, Nick pressed forward until the head of his dick was sliding inside, thrusting slowly into the exquisite heat. He dug his fingers even harder into Greg's hips, sliding forward until he was fully enveloped, balls deep and flush against Greg's ass. Gasping, he turned his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought the desire to come then and there.

Spots danced against his eyelids as he steadied his breathing. Slowly he reached a hand around and took hold of Greg's cock again. When the spots cleared he opened his eyes, swinging his head back around to plant a kiss on Greg's shoulder, nipping gently at sweat dampened skin.

Greg leaned forward even more, head still bowed as he shifted his weight to plant his feet further apart. He rested his elbows on the counter, head dropping lower as Nick began to move inside him. He shuddered as each long stroke of Nick's cock swept across that sensitive bundle of nerves causing a fire to build up low in his belly. Nick's fist was wrapped tightly around his shaft, pumping up and down as he thrust in and out. The combination of Nick's cock buried deep in his body while his own dick was enveloped by Nick's hand was electric. The heat and pleasure intensified into white hot flames licking along his veins.

Greg closed his eyes, panting and whimpering incoherently. His head rested on the hand gripping his mug, sweat mingling with tears as the pleasure only increased with each thrust of Nick's cock. He felt his toes curl, his feet growing hollow as a tingling sensation crawled up his legs to flash into his groin. His muscles contracted powerfully, body clenching inwards for one long trembling moment before it released in a powerful spurt of cum that splashed onto Nick's hand, splashing against the thin fabric of his boxers. Greg moaned loudly, shuddering from head to toe as his climax peaked, breath coming in quick gasps, fingers white as he clenched his mug and rode out the pleasure.

As Greg orgasmed Nick moved his cum spattered hand to grip the base of his own cock, increasing the slick wetness so he was gliding into Greg's body, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back inside. Greg's channel was hot around his cock and when his lover climaxed the tight grip was almost painful as muscles contracted around him.

Nick wrapped one arm around Greg's waist, leaning into him and holding on tightly as he thrust faster, skin sticky against skin. With each thrust his balls slapped against Greg's ass, a steady rhythm against their unsteady moans. As Greg's trembling was easing Nick's was building with greater intensity as he kept thrusting, burying his cock deep inside Greg's body again and again. Grunting now as he kept up his pushing, Nick felt the pleasure pooling deep inside his belly, flooding his limbs with a heaviness that signified his near release. All it took was one more hard thrust and the heaviness was flowing through him and out of him, his cock twitching within the tight passage as he came hard, hips still thrusting as he spurted hot cum into Greg's body, again…then again as his orgasm peaked then slowly subsided, leaving his limbs quivering.

Greg was panting hard, smiling and sweaty. Slowly he pushed himself up so he was standing again, back sticky against Nick's chest. He relaxed his grip on the coffee cup, unaware he'd been holding on to it the entire time. He began to laugh then, unable to contain himself, simply enjoying the post-orgasmic glow.

Nick gently nipped the back of Greg's neck before pulling out with a wince. Tugging Greg's boxers up he lightly slapped one perfect ass cheek then gently patted the fabric down to clean up what mess he could.

Wrapping his arms around his lover he nibbled Greg's ear, the scent of coffee overpowering the scent of their lovemaking. With a wry grin he noticed the pot was full, it must have finished at the same time they did. He began to laugh with Greg as he reached to grab the pot, sloshing the precious liquid into the cup Greg had never let go of.

When the mug was full Nick drew back so one hand rested on Greg's elbow, placing the pot back on its hotplate with the other. Still laughing he planted a kiss on Greg's ear.

"Good morning," he said as the sunlight streamed down to envelop them both in its warm glow.

***

_We'd love to hear what you think! Ple__ase do leave a comment/review._

_Next: Good Afternoon_


	2. Good Afternoon

_A/N: The authors of this work do not in any way profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). __**CSI:Crime Scene Investigation**__ is the property of CBS_

_This piece of fiction is a product of collaboration between me (__**egeria**__) and __**Stokes4Me**__. We are writing a series of one-shots under this theme and we very much hope you enjoy them all. Nick and Greg are an established couple in this series which fits into the universe of Follow the Evidence (i.e. post Season 5), but in no way is it a requirement to read that fic in order to enjoy these. _

_This story takes place some time after Good Morning._

_**Plot by:**__ Stokes4Me_

_**Story by:**__ egeria aka Seshat3_

**Good Afternoon**

Nick couldn't put his finger on it but somehow the California sun was different than the sun that shone in Vegas. It burned just as bright, scorched just as strongly but the warmth was rejuvenating, healing somehow. He concluded it had more to do with being away from death than being away from Vegas. It wasn't that crime didn't exist in California but here at least he didn't have to think about it.

He sat on the edge of a beach digging bare toes into hot sand and revelling in the feeling of peace. Squinting against the suns' glare he looked out across the glinting water trying to discern the horizon in the distance.

The stretch of beach he currently occupied was empty as apparently it wasn't a favourite of locals. Hidden by a sloping retaining wall formed entirely of giant rocks the seclusion suited him just fine. After the never ending hustle and bustle of Vegas, he was grateful for the time away from humanity.

As he contemplated the ocean the distant slam of a car door carried across the beach. Nick smiled and waited, eyes still fixed on the horizon. Moments later he heard the quick slap of sandals on rock followed by the sibilant hiss of sand sliding out from under running feet, a breathless voice finally calling out.

"I'm back. Got 'em!" Greg announced triumphantly, flopping to the sand beside Nick, waving a pair of water shoes in one hand, gesturing at the two surfboards standing upright on the beach with the other.

"Sorry about that," he added with a grin.

"Nah, I enjoyed the peace and quiet," Nick teased, "it made a nice change."

"Fiend," Greg laughed back, nudging Nick with his shoulder.

Nick nudged him back, hard enough to topple him over so he fell sideways into the sand. Greg simply laughed harder as he lay there without trying to get up.

"Are we gonna' surf or what?" Nick mock growled. Greg had already shown him the basics, and he was excited to try it out for himself.

"Ok! Ok!" Greg capitulated, then rolling on his back he continued impishly, "How about 'or what?" he asked, a suggestive smile playing about his lips.

"What?" Nick repeated then looked around nervously, licking his lips, "here?"

Greg simply waggled his eyebrows, grinning up at Nick, "Why not? There's no one around."

Nick shook his head regretfully. "Someone could come along any minute."

Greg knew better but said nothing. The parking lot above them was still as empty as it had been when they arrived. With the coastline twisting and turning through myriad bends, this beach wasn't favoured by the local surfers. Greg knew it was a good place to teach a beginner though and the weather was perfect for a private lesson.

Sitting up Greg suppressed a sigh. Nick just looked so damn good with the light glinting off his hair, tanned skin gleaming over taut muscles. He'd taken his t-shirt off, leaving his torso bare to the sun; with his face lit up with laughter Nick had never looked so sexy. Greg knew could make love to Nick right then and there, but decided he could bide his time, certain he could bring Nick around to the idea.

With his usual energy he jumped to his feet and smiled broadly at Nick before striding over to the surfboards. He made a show of sliding his hand down one of the boards, almost in a caress before picking it up and laying it down in the sand. Bending over he examined the entire board, checking for any flaws that might hinder their surfing. He knew Nick was watching so he took his time with the first board then moved on to the second.

Greg knew his plan was working as he checked the board, running long fingers over smooth wax he stretched a little too far, crouched a little too low so that his long lanky body was very much on display. Greg prolonged the moment, milking it for all it was worth. He wasn't arrogant, but he knew what Nick liked, and he could tell Nick was enjoying the sight of him in his wet suit, legs and arms bare to the sun. His lean body was tanned, dusky skin proof that the sun seemed to love him too.

When Greg finally stood up he let out a sigh and stretched lazily, arms reaching up to the sky as he arched his back and extended his fingers. Mid stretch he turned to smile at Nick, his grin widening when he saw the expression on his lover's face.

Greg dropped his arms to his sides, fingers twitching as he cocked his head to one side. Sensing Nick was lost in thought he stayed silent for the moment, simply breathing in the tang of the sea.

Nick was biting his lip, nearly breathless as he watched Greg. He couldn't believe what he was contemplating, but he was alone with Greg, in the salt sea air and with the warmth of the sun beating down on them. It occurred to Nick that 'or what' covered all manner of things that didn't go outside his comfort zone. Suddenly the tightening in his chest eased as he began to breathe again.

As Greg stood and smiled at him, Nick took a step forward, then another until he was standing in front of Greg, staring into bright eyes that always seemed to sparkle with life.

"So we gonna surf?" Greg asked. His voice was steady even though the sentence was obviously unfinished.

Nick knew what Greg was offering in the unspoken words, but he also knew that Greg would be happy whichever way he decided to take it. Somehow the moment had become momentous and Nick realised that as much as he would love to stand and stare into Greg's eyes forever, he was going to have to move.

He dragged a deep breath into his lungs, tasting the sharp brine of the sea, then brought trembling hands up to cup Greg's face, fingers fanning along his jaw. Slowly, and with infinite tenderness, he pulled Greg's face towards his own until lips were pressed against soft lips.

Eyes closed they stood frozen for a moment…a lifetime…until a deep shudder passed through Nick and he drew closer, deepening the kiss until their mouths were sealed together. Their world condensed to the space they shared together, the fine spray from the sea evaporating on their skin as the sun beat down on them; the soft inhalations of their combined breath. All hesitation gone Nick pulled Greg even closer, one hand sliding into his hair, the other cupping the back of his neck, fingers lightly caressing Greg's hot skin.

Greg's hands stole up to rest on Nick's waist as he tilted his head, parting his lips in soft invitation. Nick's tongue darted out to lick against Greg's parted lips and suddenly they were open fully, Nick moaning in triumph as his tongue swept the inside of Greg's wild and intoxicating mouth.

Greg's tongue pushed against his own, urgent and eager until Nick capitulated and Greg was sweeping his tongue against teeth. His kiss was hungry and needy as he tasted Nick, whimpering against his mouth.

The kiss went back and forth, tongues claiming territory for long moments until they broke apart, breathless and trembling.

Nick rested his forehead against Greg's, panting for breath as a surge of exhilaration swept through him. He hadn't known what a difference it would make, kissing Greg outside with the air fresh and clean around them, the surge of water against rock accompanying their moans, the sun enveloping them both in some kind of benediction. Nick blushed at the thought but the kiss was so intense and so erotic he knew he couldn't stop there.

Pulling away from Greg he grabbed his hand and moved towards an outcrop of rock, close to the shore line where the sea met stone in a fine mist of salt water, shimmering in the afternoon light. The water was cool on their skin as Nick leaned back, half sitting against a natural depression in the stone, drawing Greg to him for another kiss.

Greg was smiling as Nick's arms encircled him, eyes closing and lips meeting again only to part so their tongues could clash. His own hands stole around Nick's neck, thumbs caressing in circles on Nick's jaw. Greg could feel Nick's arms tighten around him as he pressed closer, hips snug against Nick's, their mutual desire evident between them.

The rasp of a zipper coming undone was loud in Greg's ears as he felt warm air and cool water on his back. He shivered at the sensation, breaking the kiss and dropping his head onto Nick's shoulder as his wet suit was tugged down to his waist. Nearly naked and very aroused he raised his head and looked deep into Nick's eyes, hands resting on Nick's shoulders.

"Are you sure?" he whispered softly.

"Very." Nick replied as he ran one finger along Greg's jaw before tracing a line down his torso. Curling his palm against the curve of Greg's hip, he tugged, bringing his lover closer. Claiming lips again, he skimmed one hand along Greg's waist, the other gently cupping the curve of Greg's ass.

"Nick," Greg murmured into the kiss, his own hands travelling down Nick's body to rest on his waist. Tugging Nick forward from the rock, his fingers slipped under the waistband of Nick's shorts. He pushed the garment down, slipping it over Nick's erection before dropping the shorts to the ground.

Nick shivered as a rush of air swept over his naked body. He was a bundle of sensations; warm rock under his ass as Greg pushed him back, cool water misting in the air while the hot sun beat down on his skin. Greg's moans combined with the pounding waves and occasional sea gull calling in the distance filled his ears. He growled low in his throat as he kissed Greg, his cock aching and hard; he was so turned on by the heady feeling of being naked in Greg's arms, with only the sun and sea as witness.

Greg's hands roamed Nick's body, gliding over his chest, torso and abdomen before drifting down further, brushing against Nick's erection.

Nick jumped then moved his own hand to fully grasp Greg's hard cock. Their combined moan drifted into the air as Greg's hand closed into a fist around Nick's own cock. The salt spray from the sea misted their hands and cocks as they began to move together. Fists moved up, then down in a matched rhythm. They kept kissing, open mouthed and tasting each other as they closed their eyes and gave in to the powerful need for intimacy.

Greg fisted Nick with one hand, the other creeping back up Nick's torso to curl around his neck, fingers twining in soft, damp hair. His eyes were closed against the exquisite pleasure of his cock in Nick's hand, his own strong fingers gripping Nick's. It was pure bliss to be so wrapped up in each other. With another moan he pumped faster, increasing the rhythm and pressure until Nick's cock was twitching in his hand.

"Greg," Nick gasped against Greg's lips as his body clenched, stomach tightening and legs jerking.

"Greg," he gasped again before murmuring incoherently. The build up was fast, faster than he'd ever felt it before. Closing his eyes against the rush he held his breath until a wave of pleasure washed over him, cock jumping in Greg's hand as he came in one powerful spurt over Greg's hand.

Greg moaned deeply when Nick's hand tightened around him, slick with Nick's cum the glide of his cock in and out of Nick's hand was almost unbearable. Stepping even closer to Nick he pressed him harder into the rock, crushing his lips against Nick's in a bruising kiss. Moments later he was shuddering hard, body clenching and unclenching in uncontrollable waves as he came hard into Nick's fist.

Long moments later they both stirred at the same time; they were short of breath, hands and cocks sticky with cum. Spent, they could only lean against each other, half panting and laughing. Nick felt an incredible sense of lightness and freedom as he held on to Greg.

Greg let out a deep shuddering breath, then shakily bent to retrieve Nick's shorts using them to clean up the cum between them. Dropping them back onto the sand he leaned into Nick again, bracing his elbows on the rock either side of Nick.

"There now," he laughed, "that wasn't so bad was it?" He brushed a kiss over Nick's nose.

Nick laughed, resting his hands on Greg's waist. He was about to answer when suddenly, the distinct slam of a car door broke their euphoria, hearts pounding and adrenaline rushing through their veins.

"I'll rinse your shorts, you get your wet suit on," Greg yelped, tugging his own wet suit up over his arms and swooping low to pick up Nick's discarded clothing. Two voices carried out over the beach, laughing and chatting, drawing closer. Greg dashed into the water, crouching low to swirl the garment in the churning water.

"Shit." Nick swore as he ran naked across the sand. His wet suit was lying on a nearby rock and as he reached for it he slipped in the sand, losing his balance and nearly falling. Catching himself just in time he grabbed the suit and struggled into the unwieldy garment, cursing under his breath. The voices were getting louder, drowning out the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He finally managed to do up the zipper on his suit and ran back to the surfboards where Greg was standing, looking calm and unruffled.

Seconds later a couple appeared around the corner, surfboards tucked under their arms.

Greg immediately launched into a dialogue mid sentence, as if all they had been doing moments before was talking about surfing. "….just remember to keep leaning forward instead of back, because you'll lose momentum that way…"

Nick nodded as if he were listening intently. He was eyeing the couple as they walked past. The man nodded at Nick and Greg, the woman smiling brightly.

"Good afternoon," the man called out as he walked past.

"Afternoon," Nick replied, tipping his fingers to his forehead as if he were wearing a hat. The woman gave a little wave and the pair continued on, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.

Greg kept talking for a moment longer until he snorted and bent over, laughing so hard he was shaking.

Nick ducked his head and began to laugh with Greg. Seeing the funny side was as freeing as being naked in the open air. Nick couldn't remember the last time he laughed as hard.

Eventually Greg straightened, and still laughing grabbed his surf board.

"C'mon," he said, "surf's up." With that he ran into the sea and jumped on his board, paddling out from shore.

Nick stood for a moment longer, watching his lover skim over the sparkling sun-kissed surface of the sea. He smiled as he thought to himself how grateful he was to have Greg in his life. It seemed Greg taught him something new every day. Like how to let go of his inhibitions, how to glide on water and how to laugh at himself. As Nick grabbed his own board and followed Greg out into the surf, he thought life had never been so good.

***

_We'd love to hear what you think! Please do leave a comment/review._

_Next: Good Evening_


	3. Good Evening

**Follow the Evidence**

**Chapter 3**

Nick nervously jiggled his leg up and down, unaware he was also drumming his fingers in a random rhythm against his knee. The silence stretched until he cleared his throat and repeated his last thought. "So. That's it. It's all good. I'm...good." He fell silent again when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Nick had been surprised when he was shown into Dr. Mel Harding's office. The tall, slender woman was at least sixty, with startling white hair and prominent laugh lines around her eyes. Her manner exuded professionalism and experience without being intimidating. Her office was tastefully decorated in neutral, comforting tones designed to put people at ease. Nick had been expecting, and dreading, the stereotypical couch and was relieved to see two comfortable leather chairs angled towards a desk that sat near the back wall. The chair might be comfortable but Nick certainly wasn't as he looked everywhere but at the therapist, waiting for her to respond.

Dr. Harding peered at Nick, her keen blue eyes studying the nervous criminalist sitting across from her. The older woman had been too long in the business to be taken in by his ready speech and attempt at charm. She had dealt with many law enforcement professionals during her long career and understood that the character traits that best suited them for crime fighting, also made them bad patients. She was undaunted however, and set herself to the task of putting this man back together after the horrific ordeal he had been through.

"Thank you, Nick. That was a pretty speech, well rehearsed. Now, shall we get on to the real work?" Dr. Harding was gentle with her prompt, but Nick got the message loud and clear. This wasn't going to be as easy as he first thought, and he wondered just what the woman had in store for him and how long it was going to take.

xXxXx

"Hey, Mia, how's it going with my results?" Greg bounded into the DNA lab with his usual enthusiasm, as if the early afternoon didn't mark the beginning of an extra long shift. He held his file in hand, ready to discuss the results and counting on finding epithelial cells on the watch he had recovered from the car, hoping it would be the case breaker. Mia turned around, her forehead furrowed and mouth turned down in a frown.

"Sorry, Greg, I haven't touched your watch yet. I need to get through this backlog first."

Greg sighed in frustration. "Look, Mia, I really need those results."

"You and everyone else around here," Mia spoke sharply. "I'm already working a double, I have a headache, and I can't think straight. The sooner you leave me alone the sooner I'll get to your evidence." She massaged her temples with her gloved hands, then swore as she realised what she had done. Scowling, she yanked the gloves off and reached for her hand sanitizer. Greg turned on his heel, flipping his case file shut as he stalked out of the DNA lab towards the Trace lab.

Dave Hodges was alone in the lab, carefully handling a tray of vials filled with a clear liquid. Greg watched for a moment before he spoke. "Hodges. You got my results yet?"

"You know, Greg, there are other CSI's who need results too," Hodges replied with disdain. He reached for a pipette, not even turning around to face the lowest ranking CSI.

"Well what's the holdup? Catherine and I...."

"Grissom has a big case. High profile. He's my top priority."

Greg stared at Hodges' back for a minute before leaving the lab, knowing he'd be fighting a losing battle. He didn't even bother going in to talk to Henry when he saw both Grissom and Warrick hovering over the toxicology tech. The shift suddenly stretched out before him. He didn't know how long he would be waiting on the techs to clear their backlog. With a sigh Greg set off for the break room, the last of his good mood evaporating. With a hot case in hand that would grow colder every hour, he was not at all grateful for the down time.

xXxXx

"I'm grateful. Grateful to be alive. Grateful my friends didn't give up." Nick shrugged, uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. Over the past hour Dr. Harding had asked him some difficult questions that he hadn't been ready to answer. Questions he doubted he would never have asked himself. As a result, his replies were short and unimaginative, everything he thought he was supposed to say.

"Nick," Dr. Harding gently prodded, "do you think it's possible you feel grateful because you think that's what you **should** be feeling?" Nick sat back in his chair, hands on his thighs as he simply stared at the therapist, unwilling to admit she had hit a nerve. Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat he shook his head. He didn't know the right answer, because he didn't know how he was feeling. How could he feel anything when he was so numb? The curtain between him and the world hadn't lifted, but he wasn't prepared to put the sensation into words. Just thinking about it threatened to bring down the claustrophobia.

_His head still hurt. Hours later he could still feel the pain from when he had connected with the plexiglass after he had first woken. He hadn't known then that he was so confined. So utterly restricted. Now his arms ached, his back screamed in protest, demanding a stretch, his feet tightened in uncontrollable cramps as his legs shook with tension . The air was stifling, full of the scent of his own fear, a pungent mixture of sweat and urine that seemed almost tangible in the tiny space. A space that was getting smaller by the minute. He felt like he was being wrapped in rotten wool, tighter, ever tighter as the hours crawled by._

Nick shook his head, dragging his thoughts back to the present and the session he was finding more and more difficult to sit through. The only good part about it had been a mental exercise he'd promised to try when he got home, though he secretly hoping it would put him to sleep. He cleared his throat as he realised his thoughts had wandered and Dr. Harding was waiting for his reply.

"I really am grateful. I feel like I have a second chance at life." He laughed, hoping he sounded convincing. "In fact, I'm going to make a point of enjoying life from now on."

"Life affirmation is a common response after a near death experience," Dr. Harding replied, her eyes flicking to the clock placed discreetly on the desk. "Why don't we continue the discussion at our next session?" Her tone was no-nonsense and Nick realised he'd have to up his game if he wanted the therapist to clear him for work any time soon.

"Sure. Yeah ok, life affirmation. Got it. Next time," he replied nervously, itching to get out of the chair and away from the office. He was half standing when Dr. Harding interrupted him. This time her voice was serious, as though she were trying to impart something of importance.

"Sooner or later, Nick, this is going to hit you. Whether it's now or next month or a year from now, you **are** going to have to deal with this. Wouldn't you rather do it now before it damages you beyond repair?" Her blue eyes were probing. Nick could only barely meet her gaze as he stammered his thanks and rushed out of the office.

xXxXx

The break room was thankfully quiet, the usual sounds from the busy lab muffled by the closed door. Greg sat at the table, reading the latest forensic journal, a steaming cup of his favourite coffee in front of him. He'd quickly gotten over his pique and decided to make the most of the wait. The more he studied forensics, the better a CSI he would be. Although he wryly wondered if he'd ever need to know about 'Interoperator Tests for Anatomical Annotation of Earprints'. But then, no one could predict what would come up in the course of the job, and Greg recognised that the more he knew about forensics, the better an asset to the team he was.

The newest CSI was keenly aware of just how important it was to stay ahead of the game. His thoughts turned to Nick and the way each member of the night shift team had contributed to his rescue, not only in a scientific sense, but in a personal way as well. If Catherine hadn't had the courage to ask Sam Braun for the ransom; if Mia hadn't thought to use their then unknown suspects remains, checking for related DNA and identifying Kelly Gordon; if Grissom hadn't known that fire ants didn't like Nevada soil and only thrived in nurseries; if Sara hadn't made her intuitive leap and remembered Kelly saying she worked with plants. So many ifs. So many variables, so many details that meant nothing on their own until they were pulled together and turned into a whole. Kind of like the way the team worked. Each individual bringing their strengths, and weakness, to the table so that as a group they achieved the impossible. Greg turned a page, hunkering back down over the journal and focusing on the article with renewed motivation, determined to become the kind of CSI who made a difference.

He wasn't disturbed until an hour later after he had finished the article and was pouring himself another cup of coffee. He looked up in surprise when the door opened and Warrick trudged into the room, seemingly dejected. Flinging himself into a chair with a sigh, he grabbed Greg's journal and flipped it open, more out of anxiety and something to do than any real interest. Greg raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, sensing the frustrated man would open up if he wanted to. He didn't have to wait long.

"You talked to Nick lately?" Warrick's voice was deceptively calm.

Greg took a sip of coffee before answering casually, "Yeah, I saw him last night." Warrick abandoned the journal, turning his piercing green eyes onto the former lab tech. Greg met the look evenly as he leaned back against the counter.

"How is he?" Warrick asked softly, his concern for his friend overriding his frustration.

"Tired mostly. Seems alright though." Greg shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh?" The word was laden with unspoken questions. Greg let out an exasperated sigh, then moved to sit at the table across from his friend, knowing he had the answers Warrick was looking for and hoping the older man would consider his advice.

xXxXx

A soft, lilting voice filtered into Nick's ears as he sat in his chair, the house quiet and his telephone switched off. He settled his shoulders, feet planted on the floor as recommended. He allowed his hands to rest on his knees, eyes closed as he tried to follow the instructions on the CD that was playing. He wished he could have lain on the couch to meditate, the voice would surely have sent him to sleep in no time.

_I shoulda blown my nose before I started_ he thought as he tried to concentrate on his breathing. _Oh wait...I'm not supposed to be thinkin' thoughts_ was his next thought as he attempted to become aware of his feet on the floor, the chair pressing into his legs. _This chair isn't so comfortable after all. Shoot, there I go again._ He took a deep breath to steady himself as the voice continued to encourage him to become aware of his body. _Shit, itchy back, itchy back _was Nick's panicked thought. _Am I allowed to scratch? _The voice hadn't said anything about moving during the meditation. _I'm pretty sure I have to stay still but this itchin' is drivin' me crazy. It's always the way though, man I don't care what the voice says, I'm gonna scratch. _He let out a sigh as he stretched his arm around and dug his fingers into his skin, soothing the itch. _That's better _he thought as he returned to his relaxed position. _Wait. Shoot! I missed what the voice was saying! _Nick closed his eyes and tuned back into the CD. The voice was telling him to become aware of the sounds in the room. _Ummmm ok....well there's the voice. And my breathing. Man that whistlin' is annoying. And...the voice..._Nick strained his ears, trying to hear something different, something interesting. _What does the voice want me to hear anyway? What if I were in a sound proof room or somethin'? _He breathed a sigh of relief as the next instruction was given to extend his hearing to sounds outside the room. _Ok, well there's a car drivin' by out front, sounds like they're speedin' too, man this is a neighbourhood area, there could be kids playin' out there! Speakin' of which...I hear kids...laughin' and...and a ball bouncin'...like a basketball. Gotta remember to watch the game tonight. Did I pick up popcorn? Need to check that. Wish Warrick wasn't being so difficult, would be nice to have some company for the game. I wonder if Greg wants to come over? Does he even like basketball? We need a rematch anyway, I can't believe he won with Daisy Duke. Next time I'm takin' the dirt road. Hey...wait...what happened to the voice? Don't tell me it's over already. _

Nick sighed with frustration as he opened his eyes and realised he had completely failed at the meditation. Even though Dr. Harding had told him it would take time and practice, he wasn't used to failing, especially at something he had thought would be easy. The dedicated CSI was so single minded when it came to solving cases that he was surprised he couldn't concentrate on the exercise he'd been given. He hadn't realised how disorganised his thoughts were when he had nothing to focus them on. Laughing ironically at himself, Nick stood up and went to blow his nose and turn on his phone, thinking as he did that for a moment, for a mere split second when the kids had been laughing and the basketball bouncing, he had felt the curtain stir.

xXxXx

"There you are, Greg. I've been looking all over for you." Catherine sounded annoyed as she passed Warrick leaving the break room, eyeing Greg sitting at the table. "Getting some reading done?" she asked, somewhat mollified to see the forensic journal on the table proving the young man wasn't slacking.

"Labs are all backed up. Was as good a time as any."

"Well, break's over. We've found Beth Morgan**;** maybe she has some answers."

Greg jumped up from his chair, ready for action. Beth Morgan sounded like a stereotypical secretary, nosy and gossipy, a combination that might prove useful in moving their case forward. "So where are we headed?" Greg asked as the two CSI's walked through the halls of the lab.

"The Bellagio. The wedding reception starts in an hour."

"You driving?" Greg asked impishly, already knowing the answer. Catherine simply shot him a look before chuckling softly.

With traffic light they made it to the hotel with time to spare, though Greg was surprised to see Jim Brass standing in the parking lot. He had expected a police escort, but certainly not the Captain, not for a simple interview with a potential witness.

"Hey Catherine. I see you brought the little one."

Greg sighed inwardly at the jibe, knowing it was all good natured. The police captain winked at him as the trio entered the hotel, intent on finding the ballroom hosting the wedding reception.

It wasn't hard to miss. It was obvious this wedding had a lot of money thrown at it; the gold and ivory decor was lavish, though tasteful. Standing at the doorway, Greg fingered a ribbon tied around the door handle, glittery gold dust floating from the ivory silk to the floor. "Nice" was all he said, giving Catherine and Jim a goofy grin.

Catherine raised an eyebrow then scanned the room. The wedding party hadn't arrived yet, but the room was full of guests and waiters. Catherine intercepted a harried looking young man clutching a clipboard and wearing a nametag. "Excuse me. Where can we find the wedding party?"

"I'm sorry, the party is running late."

"That's not what she asked," Jim's low voice cut in as he flashed his badge. "Where's the wedding party?"

The young man paled visibly. "In the atrium with the photographer. I'll take you there."

"You do that," Jim said in an obviously patronising tone.

Greg felt oddly reassured at the exchange; at least he wasn't the only one Jim treated with seeming disdain. Suddenly it didn't feel so personal anymore and Greg decided he would take the ribbing with a grain of salt.

xXxXx

Warrick hit the 'send' button on his phone, hoping his message would be received even if his phone calls weren't. He'd spent ten minutes composing the text to Nick, wanting to get it right and hoping for a reply. Tucking his phone back into his pocket he made his way through the lab to the evidence locker. He was halfway there when his phone buzzed. Surprised to get a response so quickly, he stepped into an empty conference room and flipped his phone open.

"Sounds good. See you then." was all the message said. It was enough. Warrick continued to go about his business with a smile on his face.

xXxXx

Beth Morgan had the kind of voice that would get on anybody's nerves if they listened to it for too long. Her high pitched, nasal whine went with her short and plump figure, and it was obvious to anyone that she was vastly uncomfortable in the gold sheath dress she was wearing.

In his place as an observer, Greg shifted his feet as Catherine interviewed the girl. Glancing around the atrium, he took in the rest of the wedding party standing off to the side trying not to stare. Or glare, in the case of the fuming bride.

"Tell us why you think Vincent Washe had a date?"

The girl sniffed, her chest heaving in a sob, dislodging a thin gold strap from her shoulder. "'Cause I heard him on the phone is why. After that I just had to tell Steph because I couldn't believe what I'd heard."

_"I can't believe tonight is the night." Vincent turned his chair around to face the window of his office. "Yeah, I've been looking forward to it for a long time baby." He paused. "Can't wait to see you in it." His voice lowered, turning into a soft, sexy growl. "I'll see you then. Bye." Vincent hung up the phone and smiled to himself. Beth slowly eased the door shut, eager to spread the latest gossip around the store. It hadn't been his wife he was talking to...the woman had been holding on another line the entire time._

"He was on the phone when his wife called. Since I couldn't page him I had to go in, only he was talking all growly like, trying to sound sexy and everyone knows what that means right?" The girl tugged at the strap of her gown as she finished speaking, causing the opposite strap to fall off her shoulder.

"Do you know who Vincent might have been seeing?" Catherine asked.

"Oh well he gets a lot of calls, you know. He's the Assistant Manager now. I keep track of all his calls and I don't remember anyone calling for personal reasons." Beth spoke with an air of self importance which seemed out of place as she tugged at the bodice of her dress.

"What time was the call?" Greg interjected, ignoring Catherine's startled glance.

"Um. Well it was just before my ten o'clock break. I remember because I couldn't wait to find Steph and I knew she'd be in the staff room with Adam so I left for my break early. He did get a call from the district manager but that was just to set up a meeting next week."

"What's the office number?" Jim took out his notebook and pencil to take it down.

The girl rattled off the number easily, blowing at a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. She looked back at Catherine, lip trembling. "He's really dead?"

"I'm sorry, Beth," Catherine replied. "You've been a big help. If we have more questions we'll contact you."

The victim's secretary nodded, her face crumpling. Greg wasn't sure what he would do if the girl started crying, so he looked to Catherine for his cue. He was relieved when Beth quickly composed herself, smoothing her dress over her ample hips and taking a deep breath. "I can't ruin this for my sister. She's been planning her wedding for years." The straps fell off both her shoulders as she shrugged and tried to smile.

xXxXx

The bar was crowded and noisy, just the way Nick wanted it. He wasn't ready to talk to Warrick yet, but he didn't want to go on shutting the man out. When his friend had sent him a text earlier in the day, he'd been surprised and wary, but the message was lighthearted and made no reference to the coin toss or any of the ensuing events. It was a simple invitation to go for a drink and catch up. Nick thought he could handle that.

Until he'd walked into the bar and seen Warrick sitting at a table with a guilty look on his face. Nick sighed but approached his friend who handed him a cold bottle of beer. "I took the liberty," Warrick said simply.

"Thanks, man," Nick replied, sitting down and scanning the room. The silence between them was uncomfortable and palpable, even in the noisy bar. They both kept their eyes on the crowded room, awkwardly shifting and clearing throats as they drank. The tension grew between them until Warrick opened his mouth to finally speak.

"Another round, fellas?" Warrick's heart leapt in his chest as a waitress appeared beside them.

"Yeah. Sure," Nick replied, flashing her a quick grin. He watched her walk away, then turned to Warrick, finally meeting his eye. "She's cute."

Warricks eyebrows lifted. "Yeah. Yeah I guess she is." He gestured with his head to somewhere beyond Nick's shoulder. "That one's been eyeing you since you got here."

"Yeah?" Nick tried to sound interested. As casually as he could he turned around to look. He caught a petite blonde staring at him so he winked and laughed as she giggled, turning to talk to a brunette he presumed was her friend. Nick turned back to Warrick, the ice finally broken. "Think I have a chance man. Mind if I...?"

"Go get 'em cowboy," Warrick teased, grateful for the change in atmosphere. Suddenly it was just two guys out on the town, like old times before he'd met Tina, when the job was still fun and exciting and he and Nick would head for the bars on a night off, scoping out chicks and sometimes scoring. They had made a game of how many numbers they could collect before the end of an evening, the loser buying lunch the next shift. Warrick felt some of the burden ease as Nick leaned forward.

"Keep my beer cold, this won't take long." Nick grinned confidently, then stood and weaved his way through the busy room.

xXxXx

Nick watched the blonde walk back into the bar, not caring that she was in a huff because he wouldn't take her number. He gave a rueful laugh as he peeled the condom off, tying it off and tucking it back into the wrapper before stuffing the package into his pocket. His encounters were few and far between, but he always took his condoms home to throw away, used or otherwise. He had learned the hard way about leaving potential evidence around, he'd be damned if he ever made that mistake again.

Tucking in his shirt and zipping up his jeans he paused to look up at the midnight sky, trying to ignore the music blasting from the bar through the back door. Somehow he thought that mindless sex with a nameless stranger in a grubby back alley wasn't exactly what Dr. Harding had in mind when she told him to experience life affirming things. But Nick just couldn't think of anything else to do, especially in a city like Las Vegas.

Vegas was a city of fantasy, a web of lies spun for tourists arriving in droves with dollar signs for eyes. A city where predators existed to take advantage of visitors and citizens alike, to milk money and make a profit from people's wildest dreams. Vegas wasn't about life, Vegas was about death. Dead dreams, dead promises and dead souls. And for the crime lab, dead people. For someone whose job was all about death, finding life was an impossible task. Everywhere he went he was reminded of a case he worked, a scene or a victim he had processed.

Where does a guy find life when surrounded by death all the time? Nick asked himself as he leaned against the stone wall of the alley, unwilling to rejoin the crowd inside the bar. Warrick would be waiting for him, and Nick wasn't ready to cope with his accusing stare just yet. His friend certainly had a way of speaking without words; he could say it all in a look, a sigh, a shake of his head. It was one thing to chat a girl up, get her phone number, steal a kiss. It was all he had really intended when he had approached her, but one thing led to another and before he knew it he was in the alley with the girl pressed up against the wall, fumbling with belts and zippers. The sex had been fast and frantic but ultimately unsatisfying. Nick just wasn't sure why.

He was certain of one thing though. He knew Warrick wouldn't approve of the way he'd used the blonde, but Nick suddenly decided he wasn't up to caring about what his friend thought. He pushed himself away from the wall, deciding he would rather face Warrick upset over his womanising than asking for his forgiveness over winning a coin toss. Squaring his shoulders, Nick strode back into the bar, almost hoping for a confrontation, wishing for something, anything to bring him out of the numb haze he couldn't seem to escape.

xXxXx

_A/N - The meditation Nick is attempting is one I use myself, and I can attest to how difficult it was the first times I tried it! It's a beautiful exercise though and I highly recommend it! Feel free to message me if you want more info. _

_The paper referred to (the one Greg is reading in the break room) is an actual published document whose title I borrowed. Bibliography below. Note I didn't actually read the article. :)_

**Interoperator Test for Anatomical Annotation of Earprints (p 1246-1254)**  
Ivo B. Alberink, Arnout C. C. Ruifrok, Hartmut Kieckhoefer**)**  
Published Online: Oct 30 2006 12:00AM**)**  
DOI: 10.1111/j.1556-4029.2006.00253.x**)**

_Thank you Smokey, Yoshi and Kez!_


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